Valentines by Barbara Metzger

Author:Barbara Metzger [Metzger, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Untreed Reads
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

“Damn and blast,” the viscount muttered. “I knew it would never work!” Lord Maitland was in his library, in his undress, in despair. He poured himself another cognac from the cut-glass decanter on the cherrywood desk and tossed it down. “How could I ever expect a jewel like Senta to fall for a dry old stick like me?”

She was a diamond, his new bride, beautiful to look at, beautiful on the inside, too. When he first came up to Town in the fall, determined to find himself a wife and fulfil the responsibilities of the succession, Miss Senta Tarlowe caught Lee’s eye immediately. She was such a gay, spirited young thing, always smiling, pleased with whatever entertainment the day offered, from lavish balls to simple country picnics. She didn’t blush, simper, or bat her eyelashes, nor did she put on the airs and affectations so many of her peers wore in pretend sophistication.

Lee had watched her at various functions before even seeking an introduction. He noted how, as often as she was the center of a knot of admiring beaux, just so often she was like to be found in a gaggle of female companions, belles as well as wallflowers. Other times she seemed content to sit quietly with her parents.

Her reputation was spotless. He’d made inquiries, as far as he could without seeming obvious. No one had the slightest ill to speak of Miss Tarlowe, except a few disappointed suitors who found her too particular in her notions. Maitland couldn’t fault her for that: getting legshackled was a serious enterprise. He’d allowed himself a year for the business.

It wouldn’t be the grandest match of the Season. The Tarlowes were solid country gentry, while the Maitlands were used to running the country. Nor would the gal bring any great riches or vast estates, which suited Lee to a cow’s thumb. He had more than he could do handling his own properties and investments. Any dowry Miss Tarlowe brought would only be settled on her children. His children.

For the first time since his brother Michael’s death, the idea of becoming a tenant for life grew more appealing. As he watched her swirl through the paces of a contra danse with some spotted youth, Lee was convinced Miss Tarlowe would make him an excellent wife.

He approached cautiously at first, a dance here, a not-so-chanced meeting in the park there. Lee knew what a storm of gossip his least interest would produce, and wished to spare Miss Tarlowe that discomfort. But there were so many other, younger, men trailing at her skirts, men with no greater needs than to sit at her feet and write poems to her golden locks. Lee sat on two Parliamentary councils and wrote briefs for the Foreign Office. Nor could he dally on in London, worshiping her eyebrows like those sprigs, not when the Corn Laws were wreaking havoc in the countryside.

But what if she accepted one of them? Suddenly all those other fishes in the matrimonial seas were blowfish or barracudas or big-mouthed bass.

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